Comparable to my other one-shot Pong fanfic, this Tetris story will be in a similar format compared to the former-a one-shot fic that focuses on the true nature of the one line-constructing game we all grew up and loved upon.

The Lines are the Limit

Many players have wondered what is the true nature of this intriguing line building activity. As a personal researcher living the dull life with plenty of spare time on his list, I have managed to gather my colleagues together (two other lab-coated fanatics with an obsession for fiction and other whacked-out works of art) and instated ourselves in a very interesting debate. To this end, we managed to boot up an old Super Nintendo Entertainment System to allow ourselves to play the game-and answer the one question that has asked gamers from all over that have dared their wits and cunning in an attempt to conquer this brutal puzzle battle.

Why do we build lines, and prevent the blocks that rain from the heavens from returning whence they came from? No one has been able to answer that, but I, with my buddies, plan to put that theory to the test.

"I'll say..." My companion, a young man in his twenties (although technically we all were in that age range) spoke out loud as his game was up as soon as the blocks touched the edge of the screen. "My hypothesis on thispuzzle league is that these blocks are banished from the heavens, and it's our job to guide them to the afterlife. This screen is purgatory for them!"

"Never knew you believed in that kind of junk." My second colleague that chose to participate in this activity commented.

"It makes sense nevertheless." He spoke before passing the controller to the same individual that critiqued his guess. "Knock yourself out, see if you can beat it."

"Sure thing."

The second companion of mines proceeded to give the game a crack, only to falter due to his tactics of "trench building and sweeping" backfiring, due to the lack of the thin, narrow four-squared piece. It was a classic Tetris strategy, but it all came down to sheer luck. The chances of that one lifesaving piece appearing to your high score's blessing was often slim to none.

If one was lucky, they'd clear 4 rows in a single shot. If not, they delayed the inevitable by stacking unnecessary pieces to the sides, prolonging their inevitable defeat and failure.

"Accursed luck of mines!" The young man bellowed angrily. "I never get that piece!"

"Well?" I asked. "Come up with a hypothesis on the nature of this little puzzle game yet?"

"Hmm..." He trailed off, thinking about the question I requested. "Considering the fact it's all about luck 90% of the time, at least when I play, I'd say Tetris is a lottery. Sometimes you can win big points, but in the end, everyone loses. It's like the casino-when was the last time someone won billions from those crooked establishments that fool the greedy and idiotic into throwing their money away?" He proceeded to chuckle before taking a sip from a can of coca-cola, his favorite gaming (and philosophical debate) drink.

"Heh, none." I added. We were not gambling addicts nor did we ever wish to be-we had a job, made comfortable checks, and had an easygoing lifestyle at the current moment. Like the wise man said, being rich doesn't mean everything in the world if you don't know how to manage your big bucks. "But yes, Tetris is a game of luck, more so than skill."

My first colleague stated his opinion in order to add to the conversation. "Reflexes are needed too, especially in the later stages..."

"That too." I added. The later levels were sheer hell for the amateur player-the blocks rained down at immeasurable speeds, giving the master at the controls split seconds to quickly formulate a strategy and quickly position the block rather rapidly. A single slip-up could mean an early defeat. "What about a storyline? Is there one?"

"Doubt it. Although in my view, this could be a military training simulation program, to hone your reflexes. Ever played Missile Command?" My second colleague recommended.

"Yes." We both chorused. "Now that's a game where things go crazy."

"So what do you think?" He asked again. "Does Tetris have a limit?"

I shook my head. "I believe this game is a work where the creators wished us to use our imaginations. It could be anything-we could be freeing souls, or we could be cleaning up blocks of toxic waste by combining them with other chemicals to ensure they are disposed of safely." Being a longtime avid gamer like myself, I could easily come up with small stories, although they were relatively simple. "However, one thing's for sure-the lines we create, they are the limits. Because we can only make so much before the blocks stack up on us and we give up."

We all peered out the window and observed the rainy afternoon pass by. Sometimes, I wished I discovered the true meaning of what we were here for-for one thing, our lives were not as simple as the little blocks that drift downwards towards the bottom of the screen in Tetris. I could be wrong, though.

After all, only the tiled constructions themselves knew the true meaning, and I could swear they are asking the same question: why are the enigmatic lifeforms controlling us putting us through this process?

My colleagues called it a day when both of them had their own matters to attend to-mostly gaming related. They were rather addicts when it came to that, while I myself had a couple of writings to work on. Gaming was never my forte, even though it was when I was younger. But that time had passed.

"Good luck with your fic." One of them cracked before leaving my house and into the rainy evening.

I nodded in gratitude. "Your compliments assist me a lot."

The other left after he retrieved his old SNES, and quickly hurrying to his car, I witnessed him drive off into the night. It was at that time I sat down on my office chair and wondered about the blocks-the one and only characters-in Tetris.

Painful? Torturous? Relaxing? Carefree? We'll never understand their responses, and likely never will, even with the minds of our greatest scientists and philosophers.

Hey, I shouldn't be talking, because after all, I'm just a regular guy trying to live out his life here in peace.

With a click, I switched off the lights and called it a day. Limits or not, both we and the blocks in Tetris were not confined to anything.

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